


Surrender

by imaginary_golux



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, M/M, No Redeeming Social Value, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 17:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8762476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: In which Poe has had a long day, and Finn makes it better. Or, alternately: fluffy smut for all.





	

"Gotcha," Finn says triumphantly, hands closing around Poe's wrists as he pins Poe to the bed. Poe twists his arms, trying to escape the clasp of Finn's callused hands, and Finn chuckles, sweet and rich and intoxicating as fine brandy, and grips a little tighter.

"Trying to escape?" he murmurs in Poe's ear. "But don't you want to be good for me, Poe?"

Poe whimpers a little into the pillow under his face and feels himself go limp beneath Finn's weight, the firm grip of Finn's hands. Finn isn't really any _larger_ than Poe is - they're the same height, their shoulders the same breadth - but while Poe is in decent shape, he's a _pilot -_ he doesn't need to be more than quick and agile and a crack shot. Finn, though - strike-team commander Finn, ex-Stormtrooper Finn, _war-trained_ Finn - Finn who was made into a weapon and has made himself so much more - Finn is so much stronger that it isn't even really a contest.

But it pleases them both when Poe fights a little, when he makes Finn _work_ for his eventual, inevitable surrender, and so as much as Poe does, in fact, want to be good - as much as he wants to spread his legs and let Finn have his wicked way with him - he grins into the pillow and twists his arms again, rears back against Finn's implacable weight as though he really could dislodge him.

It doesn't work, of course. Finn chuckles again, and sets his teeth into the curve of Poe's neck, and bites down slow and steady and firm, until Poe is whimpering softly into the pillow.

Finn pulls Poe’s hands up further on the bed, until he can gather both of Poe’s wrists into one hand, and reaches down with his other to stroke Poe’s side, long easy gestures that make Poe sigh and relax beneath him. “There now,” Finn says softly, and bites the other side of Poe’s neck, firm and slow and perfect, until Poe is sprawled beneath him, limp and panting, and fairly sure that even if he _wanted_ to keep pretending to struggle, his muscles wouldn’t obey him. Finn makes a low, satisfied noise and shifts to the side far enough to run a hand down over Poe’s ass, strokes over Poe’s entrance and then chuckles, surprised and pleased, to find Poe already slick.

“Tricksy,” he says approvingly, and Poe laughs into the pillow. Most people assume Poe is as talkative in bed as he is everywhere else, but the truth of the matter is that when Poe is _really_ enjoying himself, he loses all grasp on words, and is reduced from his usual voluble chatter to wordless sounds of pleasure and desire. Finn has learned, very quickly, to understand those noises as well as he does Poe’s normal babbling. So Finn doesn’t ask what Poe was thinking, just kisses the curve of Poe’s ear, the hinge of his jaw, the nape of his neck, and Poe hums and pushes back against him happily.

“So good for me,” Finn tells Poe softly, “you’re always so good.” He moves to cover Poe again, his free hand coming back up to Poe’s wrist, and Poe sighs and lets his legs fall apart, lets Finn settle between them so perfectly.

It takes some shifting, what might by an outside observer be called wriggling, until Finn’s cock is nudging up against Poe’s entrance. Poe doesn’t mind. Finn takes his time, moves slow and easy as he scatters kisses and tiny bites across Poe’s shoulders and the back of his neck, and every molasses-slow movement draws another soft moan from Poe’s lips. Thank goodness for the pillow.

At last, Finn is exactly where Poe wants him, and Poe makes little encouraging noises in the back of his throat as Finn sinks into him, one endless slow inch at a time, until he’s balls-deep in Poe and therefore nearly close enough. Poe sighs, long and low, and Finn kisses the nape of his neck again and then shifts, carefully, until he’s got his knees under him, Poe moving with him until he’s kneeling with his face in the pillow and his ass in the air, helpless and loving it. He waits, breath catching with anticipation, but Finn doesn’t start to move. Poe manages to get a few brain cells scraped together enough to whine, a soft querulous noise.

"Go on then," Finn says softly. "Show me how good you are. Fuck yourself on me." Poe moans, far too loud and only half muffled by the pillow, the sound echoing through the room, and braces his knees a little better and starts to move, pulling away from Finn as slowly as he possibly can and then pushing back again just as slow. It's utter torment - Poe wants, desperately, to fuck himself as hard as he can, until he's wrung out and whimpering and so sated he can't even move, but he keeps up his slow, torturous pace, moaning softly with every movement, because - because if he can just keep this up long enough to break through Finn's frankly remarkable self-control, Finn will - he will - he'll -

Finn makes a noise Poe can't even describe and shoves Poe down flat on the bed, thrusting into him hard and fast, hitting Poe's prostate with every pass. Poe wails into the pillow and claws at the sheets, full so full and desperate for more, for the rasp of Finn's breath in his ear and the almost-painful unbreakable clasp of Finn's hands on his wrists and the perfect brutal rhythm of Finn's thrusts.

“So _good_ ,” Finn pants into Poe’s ear, and then bites down again, hard enough to bruise, on the curve of Poe’s shoulder, and Poe comes apart beneath him with a desperate cry of pleasure, feeling Finn spill inside him.

They lie there for a long, uncounted time, their breath evening out and their heartrates slowing to something a little more sensible, and then Finn sighs softly and pulls away to lie beside Poe, rubbing gently over Poe’s wrists where his hands clasped them so tightly. There will be faint bruises in the morning, nothing bad enough to keep Poe out of the cockpit of his beloved Black One, but enough to remind him every time his sleeves ride up a little _exactly_ what he was up to the night before. There’ll be bite-marks on his shoulders, too, faint echoes of pain and pleasure.

Poe rolls over into Finn’s embrace, slinging his own arm clumsily over Finn, and kisses his beloved softly. Finn kisses back just as gently, humming contentedly against Poe’s lips.

“Thank you,” Poe says softly, the first words he’s spoken since the door close behind Finn earlier that evening. “I needed that.”

“Anytime and always, buddy,” Finn replies quietly. “My pleasure.”

Poe wriggles a little, feeling the pleasant ache deep inside him. “Yes, it was,” he agrees, and Finn laughs delightedly.

“Incorrigible,” he says fondly, and kisses Poe to joyful silence once again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm over on tumblr as imaginarygolux; drop on by and say hi!


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